


Letting Loose

by solisaureus



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alcohol, Drunkenness, M/M, Mutual Pining, unrequited love but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-06-06 02:27:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6734239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solisaureus/pseuds/solisaureus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A oneshot-turned-multichapter that looks at the space between chapters 9 and 11, with a focus on the relationship between Robin and Chrom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chrom had never seen Robin this drunk, or this lighthearted, before. The occasion was celebratory enough; the Shepherds had captured a Plegian fort near the capital and had secured food and supplies for the army for the next few weeks. As usual, their victory was all due to Robin's strategic genius, and as a result their friends had poured the tactician drink after drink ever since they raided the garrison's wine cellar. 

The evening had started out congenially enough, and Chrom, along with most others, had downed a goblet or two himself. The hall where the Shepherds had gathered was filled with an air of triumph and comraderie, warmth rising in everyone's faces and attitudes. 

As the night went on, Robin's self-censure weakened considerably. 

"This is so great," he slurred as he neared the end of his fourth helping. "You guys, you guys make me feel so special." 

Lissa giggled from across the table. "You are special, Robin," she said. 

Robin's face broke into a beaming grin at these words. "See? I feel like...like a prince or something. No offense, Chrom," he said, pushing playfully at Chrom's shoulder beside him. 

"I don't know why I should be offended by that," Chrom said, smiling through his sincerity. "You deserve some recognition once in a while!" 

Robin laughed and threw back the rest of his glass. "You're so nice to me, Chrom," he said, leaning his head on the prince's shoulder. "You guys, I love Chrom." 

"We all love you too, Robin," Chrom said, trying not to trip over his words. He prayed that the blush in his cheeks would be credited to the alcohol in his veins and not the sudden swelling of his heart. He felt that his face would combust as Robin drunkenly snuggled into his shoulder. 

"I mean...you're my best friend," the strategist mumbled as Sumia sympathetically tipped a jug of water into his empty goblet. "Is that nuts or what?" He said, suddenly sitting up to gesture wildly with his hands. "My best friend is the Prince of Ylisse!" 

"Don't flatter him, Robin," Lissa said, seeming a bit too amused by the tactician's sudden emotional honesty. "He's only the most annoying brother in the realm!" 

Robin laughed heartily at Lissa's teasing and Chrom's exaggerated scowl in response, and then gestured for Lissa to come over to him. "Come here, princess! You need to get in on this love too!" He swayed a little as Lissa rounded the end of the table, and then hummed happily as he wrapped his arms around the waist of each sibling on either side of him. "It's a royal sandwich!" he laughed.

Chrom was recording each word out of Robin's drunk mouth directly into his long-term memory, with the hunch that he would rarely get to see his tactician in a similar state again. He had to admit, it was rather endearing. The man was giggling freely, whereas Chrom was lucky to see an errant smile on his face most days, especially recently. Everyone had been somber since the loss of Exalt Emmeryn not long ago, and as the Shepherds' campaign in Plegia neared its end, more and more pressure had been placed on their strategist to lead them to victory. In a lot of ways, Chrom felt responsible for Robin's immense stress; after all, he was the one who hardly waited for a response when appointing him to the position barely after their first meeting. Everyone in the army needed a reprieve from the war, but Chrom felt especially glad that Robin was letting loose a little. 

Literally, Robin's normally neatly tied brown hair was now loose around his narrow shoulders, and Chrom couldn't help but think that he was...rather pretty. The prince smiled sheepishly at his own private thought, laughing at himself. It had been a few months since Chrom had been having such feelings about his friend, and normally they troubled him somewhat, but tonight he ignored his reservations and allowed himself to enjoy the company of the attractive man at his side. 

Robin freed his right arm around Chrom to take a swig out of his goblet, and groaned dramatically at the mundane taste. "Aw, what is this!" he said. "Sumia, what did you put in my glass?!" 

The pegasus knight raised the pitcher of water proudly. "You have had quite enough, my friend!" she said, laughing. 

Robin frowned. "I hate when other people are right over me," he grumbled. He made a motion to stand, but instead he nearly fell backwards from his seat and onto the hard floor. Chrom reacted fast and caught him just before he met the cold stone, and when he recovered from the surprise of his fall, Robin theatrically draped his arm across his forehead like a swooning damsel. "My hero!" he giggled. 

Lissa snickered at the spectacle, shaking her head. "Chrom, you should put him to bed," she suggested. 

Chrom smiled. "That sounds about right to me," he said, and looked to the drunken man in his arms. "You ready to hit the hay, Robin?" 

Robin closed his eyes and pouted, but even in his intoxicated state he could still see some reason. "If my lord commands it," he said, sounding defeated. 

Chrom shifted the man upright. "Say goodnight to everyone! How confident are you in your ability to walk straight, my friend?" 

Robin squinted in thought for a moment. "Not very," he admitted. 

Chrom laughed and knelt in front of Robin's seat. "Get on my back, I'll carry you." 

As the tactician clumsily climbed onto Chrom's back, the Shepherds in the hall bid the pair a fond farewell. Chrom stood and nodded at his companions, a little surprised to find that Robin was heavier than his slight stature suggested. He exited the hall and was greeted by a refreshing night breeze, and set off toward Robin's tent. 

Robin was all but draping himself over Chrom's back, resting his cheek against his shoulder. "You're the best, Chrom," he mumbled close to his ear.

"I do what I can," the prince said, trying to sound casual despite the shivers Robin's breath on his neck sent down his spine. 

"I love you..." he said sleepily, sending Chrom's heartbeat into overdrive. 

"I-I love you too." This was normal for friends to say, right? 

Chrom almost stopped dead in his tracks when he felt Robin press a kiss against his neck. He hadn't imagined that soft peck, had he? He pretended not to notice and quickened his pace toward the tent. 

When they arrived, Chrom slowly knelt down before Robin's cot and let the sleepy man slide off his back onto it. "Need anything else?" he asked as Robin shrugged off his jacket. 

The tactician shook his head lazily. "Thank you for carrying me," he said. 

"I'm happy to help," Chrom said, smiling as he stood again. 

"Goodnight, Chrom," Robin said as he rolled over, his words so slurred they were barely discernible. 

"Sleep well, friend," said Chrom. He savored one last look at the rare phenomenon of Robin resting peacefully, and turned back out to the Plegian evening.  


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after is always the worst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote the first chapter as a oneshot initially but someone asked if i was gonna continue it, and I've been feeling like switching it up and writing some lighthearted fea stuff, so why not! I know this update is pretty short but I have some fun ideas planned for future installments :^P Anyways, this is gonna be pretty tropey and silly, so gird your loins.

Robin woke to the soothing sounds of slaughter outside his tent. Consciousness descended into his brain quite suddenly; it was more like taking a brick to the face than emerging naturally from dreamland. 

The body of a Risen was thrown into one of the stabilizing poles of Robin’s tent, causing the structure to shudder as if offended. Robin saw the silhouette of a blade stab through the creature and winced at the sound of its tortured scream as it died. Moments later, Lon’qu threw aside the tent flap and yelled, “What are you doing in bed? Get up! Risen are attacking the fort!”

Robin scrambled off of his cot and stepped haphazardly into his boots. Fortunately, he was already mostly dressed, to his slight confusion. Memories of his drunken conduct from the previous night slowly shuffled into the forefront of his mind as he hurriedly shrugged on his robes and snatched up an Elthunder tome. His emerging shame combined with the sensory onslaught of bright desert sunlight and the cacophony of battle made him cringe visibly as he rushed into the fight. 

“For heaven’s sake, there you are, Robin!” called the haughty voice of Maribelle to his right as he flung electricity at a pair of invaders. 

“Yes, I apologize for my tardiness. What happened?” Robin demanded, stepping closer to to the healer where she was taking relative shelter between tents. 

“What does it look like? Risen attacked while people were sleeping!”

Robin sighed, trying to brush off the bitter tone, and said, “Where’s Chrom?” 

“Milord is fine,” Maribelle responded. “He suffered a small contusion from the initial surprise attack, but Li--” 

“Wait, they injured the captain?” Robin interrupted. “Where is he?” 

Maribelle glared at him for his poor manners. “As I said, Milord is just fine. My treasure patched him up a moment after it happened. But if you must know, I last saw the prince at the front east wall of the fort.” 

Robin straightened up and nodded. “Alright, good, just...keep under cover for now, I’ll get this sorted out,” he said, and then broke away from her in a run towards the front of the fight, dodging the bodies of Risen as they fell. Despite the jolt of the ambush, at least it didn't seem that the invaders posed much of a combative challenge to the Shepherds. Robin held onto that comforting thought in the face of his disgraceful late entrance as he frantically searched for his commander. 

He caught sight of Chrom just outside the gate. He was half-dressed and fighting off two enemies at once, Falchion flashing in his deft hands between them. Frederick was nearby on his horse, which Robin was surprised he’d been ready enough to retrieve until he remembered it was Frederick. From behind, Robin struck down one of Chrom’s attackers with a well-placed bolt, and the sudden assistance caught the prince’s attention. 

“Robin!” he exclaimed, lowering his sword and taking a few steps closer to his tactician. “Finally, I was beginning to worry that you had drank yourself into a coma!”

Robin groaned. “Please don’t mention last night, I’m mortified enough by my own memories of the event.” 

Chrom laughed as color rose in his face. “Alright, alright, just help us form some semblance of a unified counter-attack so we can get on with our morning,” he said.

“Chrom, you look pretty red…” Robin observed, ignoring the man’s order. “How hard have you been fighting out here in the heat? Maybe you should go to a healer, I can take over out here.”

The prince coughed. “What? No, I’m fine. I’m just fine. I feel quite cool, actually. How are you?”

Robin squinted. “Uh…”

“Risen!” Chrom shouted abruptly, brushing past his friend to slay the undead monster lurking behind him. Robin watched him fight his way back into the fort for a few moments, and then turned his attention to the task at hand. It was a simple strategic puzzle for his mind, and once he had properly positioned the Shepherds it was a matter of minutes before the threat was completely eliminated. 

\--

After the battle, when the Shepherds were sitting down at a belated breakfast, Robin casually seated himself next to Lissa. She looked beat, and Robin felt bad that she’d had to abruptly wake up and immediately get to healing without eating or drinking. The tactician felt his own hangover catching up with him; his head felt like it was ten times heavier and filled with knives. 

“Rough morning,” Lissa commented in a monotone voice over her coffee cup. “But it’s a good thing no one was badly hurt.”

Robin hummed in agreement and then ducked his head slightly, asking “So, Lissa...what exactly did I say last night?”

Lissa turned her head to stare at him. “Were you honestly that far gone?” she asked incredulously.

Robin shook his head, his ponytail flicking back and forth. “No, no, I was fine, I remember. Mostly. It’s just that Chrom seemed a little uncomfortable towards me earlier, and I’m wondering if I may have said something strange to him that I don’t remember right now.”

Lissa cocked an eyebrow and put a finger to her lips. “Well, you were pretty touchy-feely with everyone.”

Robin sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Gods.”

“Well, I thought it was kinda funny,” Lissa said, smiling. “You were sort of falling all over him, saying ‘Ohhh, I love you, Chrom, you’re my best friend, you’re my hero,’” she shifted to a lower tone to mock him.

“I said what?!” Robin demanded. 

Lissa laughed and snorted. “You don’t remember this? Oh my gods, Robin!” 

Robin shushed her, pushing her shoulders in towards the table. “Keep your voice down! That’s so embarrassing!”

She scoffed. “It’s nothing they all haven’t heard before!” she said, unable to keep the giggles out of her voice. 

Robin groaned and hid his face in his hands. “Gah, now I understand why he seemed so awkward earlier. I’m such a fool!” 

Lissa sat back up and eyed her friend curiously. “Robin, don’t be ridiculous. Chrom wouldn’t act weird around you just because you said he was your best friend. You guys are pretty much attached at the hip, it would be strange if you didn’t love each other.”

Robin lowered his head onto the table and emitted a strangled whining noise. Lissa sipped her coffee and patted his shoulder, saying “There there, you strange little man.” 

He had a lot of explaining to do.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Right, I think I got it, but just in case...tell me the whole thing again, I wasn't listening." - Chrom

“Come on, Chrom! I know I can hand your ass to you in a fight any day, but it’s like you’re not even trying!” 

The prince used his practice sword to prop himself back into a standing position after Sully had knocked him backward about ten yards. He’d hardly broken a sweat since the start of their training encounter, but it wasn't fatigue that was throwing off his performance. 

“I’m sorry, Sully,” Chrom said, facing the fiery cavalier. “It’s just that my mind is elsewhere this morning.”

“Well, reel that dumb thing back into the barracks, captain, because we don’t have time to daydream like little girls,” said Sully, her lance still readied. 

She was right of course; the Shepherds’ cataclysm with the Mad King was only weeks away, and they needed their leader to be sharp in mind and body. Chrom wanted to be the disciplined, unwavering commander that his militia deserved to rely on, but despite his efforts he couldn’t suppress his heart’s fervent curiosity. Thoughts of Robin and the ephemeral kiss he almost imagined a few nights ago floated in his head like clouds that hung over everything he did. It was at times like these that he cursed the weighty position he was born into, and wished that he could be a little freer to take life as it came to him. 

Not that he was certain he would be able to court Robin even if he was a commoner. He was aware that his little crush on the tactician was absurd, even if Robin had revealed to him in confidence several months back that he took interest in men more than women. It was possible that this revelation spurred Chrom’s feelings, but nevertheless there was no reason to suspect that Robin reciprocated them in any way. 

Except for his overly affectionate demeanor and that fleeting brush of lips on his neck from a few nights back that Chrom just could not get out of his thoughts. On the other hand, when Robin brought it up yesterday morning during the attack, he seemed ashamed and even a little hostile. What if -- 

The butt of Sully’s lance shot into Chrom’s gut, slamming him back down to the ground and violently cutting off his train of thought. “You better start focusing right now, dimwit, or so help me gods I will get Frederick the Hard-Ass to spar with you instead!” Sully threatened.

Chrom laughed and shook his head to dispel his anxieties, getting back to his feet once again and steeling his gaze. Sully saw the change in his expression and smirked, looking forward to an even fight for once. With a shout, Chrom charged forward and Sully met him in the middle with her practice lance, and they clashed until they were both dripping with sweat and gasping for breath. Pushing his hair back from his hot forehead as he turned to put away his practice sword, Chrom silently swore that he would be ready for the coming battle no matter what. He would have time aplenty to ponder romance once Emmeryn was avenged and both Ylisse and Plegia were freed from Gangrel’s reign. 

\--

Robin’s coffee filled his work tent with its strong scent and left a pungent aftertaste in the back of his mouth. He had lost track of how many cups he had drank; he just kept asking for more from Frederick as he made his rounds supervising the camp. Sleep had escaped him for days on end, as he realized with each passing hour how much more work he still had to do to prepare for the Shepherds to confront Gangrel and couldn’t waste a moment away from his plans. Robin prided himself on his dedication to not risking any of the soldiers’ lives outside of what they could reasonably handle on the battlefield, and this principle would be astronomically more crucial in the coming fight. 

Robin sank his head into his trembling hands and cursed himself again for the way he acted toward Chrom several nights ago. There had been a noticeable tension between the two of them ever since, which they both needed like a hole in the head during this time. Robin was supposed to be dutiful and efficient, he had to be the commander’s right hand and ease his stress with planning and support. That was what he was good at, that was the one thing that he was there for. Intoxication had obscured this purpose in his mind and allowed him to believe for a brief night that he could act on his feelings, that he could pursue the love he so desired. But it was now clear that his affection was only confusing and unwelcome, and Chrom had to be confident and unencumbered. He didn’t need to be worrying that his chief strategist was coming on to him when he had a war to win. How could he have been so careless?

He was so absorbed in his regrets that he nearly leapt out of his chair, knocking over his half-empty coffee cup all over the map in front of him with his surprised flailing, when Frederick cleared his throat next to him. Immediately, the knight produced a kerchief and began mopping up the mess before Robin could get at it with the sleeve of his coat. 

“Good day, Robin,” Frederick said calmly as he put away his now-stained kerchief in some invisible compartment of his armor. 

“Hello, Fredericson,” Robin said with a forced smile. “I don’t suppose you’re here to bring me more refreshments?”

Frederick frowned. “I am not. Come, Milord has summoned you to discuss your updated battle plans.”

Robin fidgeted. “I need some more time to go over this map...and perhaps draw a new one,” he said, pursing his lips as he lifted the soggy corner of the parchment.

“I think not, Robin. You have been holed up in this dark tent all day and night and even if Milord hadn’t asked for you, I would have come to bring you out into the daylight regardless. You are not at your best if you have not seen the sun in gods know how long,” Frederick reasoned.

“Minimizing the death toll of the coming battle is my job and I take it very seriously,” Robin said. “And it matters far more to me than my personal needs and desires.”

Unflinching, Frederick maintained eye contact and said, “Good, then you won’t have any trouble with stepping outside of your comfortable tent to discuss strategy with your commander.” 

That infuriatingly thorough steward had backed Robin into a corner of logic. He slumped, defeated, and tucked his coffee-stained parchments under his arm before following Frederick into the blinding desert sunlight. Around him, the soldiers were running to and fro like workers in a beehive, carrying around enormous stacks of tomes and weapons, frantically leading healers to training rings, and making preparations for the camp’s dinner. Robin was not the only one working hard, and it seemed like every effort cost more than usual due to the unrelenting Plegian heat. Robin had tied his hair in a knot and pushed back his bangs with a band of fabric, which he realized probably looks ridiculous, but he was too sweaty to care. His dark skin left him relatively protected from the sun’s rays and he was able to strip to his sleeveless undershirt to cool off, but many of his fairer Ylissean compatriots were not so fortunate and walked around wearing extra clothes to protect their hides from being fried in the sun further. Frederick was a special case; Robin had never seen him without his full suit of armor and apparently the sweltering desert environment was no cause for exceptions. As he walked alongside the clanking knight, he wondered if he had simply been stuck in the armor all these years and too embarrassed to admit that he didn’t know how to undo it. Or perhaps he was just not the type to be inclined to complaints. Robin was still a little too intimidated by the man to ask. 

They reached the fort and entered into the modest hall. The thick stone walls provided only mild relief from the heat, but Robin would take what he could get. Chrom was standing with his back to the entrance, poring over some unseen document on the table in front of him. An instinctual wave of nerves washed over the tactician when he saw him, but he forcibly suppressed his hesitance. He was here to do one job, and he wasn’t about to let a little personal shame stop him. 

Frederick bowed. “Milord, I’ve brought Robin as you requested,” he said. 

Chrom turned around, and upon seeing his tactician his face broke into a grin that he didn’t even try to conceal, which then gave way to laughter. 

“What’s so funny?” Robin asked, and Chrom pointed at Robin’s head. Realization dawned on him, and he sighed and took the band off of his head, allowing his long bangs to hang down in his eyes once again. “Better?” he asked like an exasperated parent trying to placate his child.

Chrom’s giggles died down and he exhaled. “You looked like a hedgehog with your hair sticking up like that. Or worse, like Vaike!” a new round of laughter burst forth from him with that comparison, but Robin and Frederick’s unamused expressions quickly quieted him down. Clearing his throat, Chrom continued, “Anyways, time for battle preparations is running short. Let me see what you’ve been working on, friend.” 

Robin sighed and stepped forward with his maps, laying them out on the table as Chrom shuffled his other papers out of the way. Before the prince could inquire about the extensive brown stains, Robin commented, “Frederick’s fault. Pay it no mind.” Chrom looked back toward his knight, who rolled his eyes. 

“So the battlefield should be pretty wide and open, but there are plenty of fortresses and treasure chests that we should take advantage of. If Gangrel will be positioned at the south end, then…” 

Chrom quickly lost track of Robin’s words as he watched him move his gloved hands across the map, pausing every few seconds to look at Chrom. Robin’s eyes were so unique, their deep brown was one golden glint short of black, and his long lashes touched his cheeks every time he blinked. His low voice spoke smoothly and calmly as his hands, which seemed suited both for magic in their grace and swordplay in their strength, gestured back and forth over the lines depicting Plegian topography. Chrom had to resist the urge to reach out and brush his hair, it always looked so soft and elegant, even though it was tied up in a hasty knot at the moment. With a start, he realized what he was doing and mentally slapped himself for letting his thoughts wander. He was the one who had summoned Robin, and yet he was not listening to him because he was too caught up in looking at him. Suddenly, the tactician wasn’t talking anymore and was instead staring as though waiting for an opinion, and Chrom’s mind started to panic. 

He had to say something. “That sounds...um, yes. Great thinking, Robin. I love this plan.”

“Chrom, I just asked you how you prefer your eggs,” Robin deadpanned. 

“O-Oh. Uhh, poached?” 

Robin sighed. “Frederick, would you excuse us for a moment?” he asked, and Frederick nodded and dutifully bowed outside. Robin turned looked at the prince with piercing eyes, and then looked down. “Look, Chrom, this is getting ridiculous. Can we talk about this?” 

Despite the panic in his head surging to a higher level, Chrom tried to act nonchalant. “Of course, friend, though I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Yes you do. You’ve been acting awkward and distant around me lately, and I know why. I just want to clear things up so we can get back to normal and set our heads right for this final battle,” Robin said. “Look, I know that the other night when I was drinking, I was acting a little too...friendly towards you. I understand that that has made you uncomfortable, and I apologize for my conduct, but I want to make it clear that I don’t...I’m not…” he sighed and looked at the ceiling. “I-I don’t have feelings like that for you, alright? So please don’t worry about it anymore.” 

Chrom said nothing for a few stunned moments, and then he found his voice. “You don’t?” he said stupidly.

Robin shook his head. “No, I don’t. We are just friends. Right?” It hurt him a little bit to lie so plainly to this person he cared for so much, but it had to be said. It is a tactician’s modus operandi to strategically wield the truth when victory was concerned. 

Chrom nodded slowly. “Right. Yes. Friends. Of course. Yes, definitely.” The toxic pang of shame sank its teeth into the prince’s stomach as he started to understand what was being said. Clearly, being the incredibly perceptive genius he is, Robin had come to the correct conclusion that his friend and captain was having romantic thoughts about him, and they were adamantly unwanted. This is a rejection, he realized. 

The tactician breathed out and put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Alright, good. I’m glad that’s finally out of the way. Now, let’s get back to work. What are your real thoughts on this strategy?”

Chrom laughed uncomfortably and searched for words, and Robin rapidly caught on to his cluelessness. “You weren’t listening at all, were you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow long time no update. Sorry y'all, life hit me like a train this semester! Plus I participated in (and completed!) National Novel Writing Month (50,000 words in the bag baby) so for the past month I have been strongly disinclined to write a single word of creative writing. But here's this chapter! It's a little longer this time. Buckle up for some drama and angst in future installments.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember how I said this fic was gonna be lighthearted and not angsty? Haha, well,

A pained shriek shooting through the fortress like an arrow in the night jolted Chrom awake, and he instinctively snatched up Falchion from beside his bed and sprinted out toward the source of the sound. He realized with rising panic that the sound was coming from the room they had reserved for Lissa to sleep in, and nearly tripped over himself as he rushed toward it. He arrived at the same time as Frederick, who pushed open the door and let his frantic lord scramble past. 

Chrom looked around and gathered with immense relief that there was no one else in the room and Lissa was unharmed. The princess was sitting up in bed, wound in on herself so tightly that her knees touched her forehead. She wasn’t screaming anymore, but heavy sobs violently shook her narrow shoulders. Before Chrom could take a step toward her, a head of blonde curls pushed past him and Maribelle scooped Lissa up in her arms, petting her loose hair and shushing her sweetly. 

“It’s alright, my treasure, you’re safe,” Maribelle cooed as she rubbed her darling’s back. “No one’s going to harm you, I’m here, it was a dream.” 

As the princess’s cries faded to whimpers at Maribelle’s soothing, Chrom half-turned to see Frederick entering with Robin, who was fully dressed and looked like he had just been awake despite the obscenely late hour. “What happened?” he whispered. 

Chrom shrugged helplessly. “Looks like a bad nightmare. I think we’ve got it under control, Robin, you should go to sleep.” 

“If you’re certain…” Robin said hesitantly, his gaze flicking toward the distraught princess. 

Chrom raised an eyebrow, and then began to physically push him out of the room. “I need your help for many things, Robin, but caring for my little sister is fully within my capabilities. Now you need to get some sleep, friend. I will order you if I have to,” he added.

Backing out of the room with his hands raised in mock surrender, Robin sighed. “If you insist, but do come get me if there is anything I can do.” 

Chrom nodded at him and then turned back to the scene inside. Lissa was leaning heavily into the comforting hold of Maribelle, who was having a whispered conversation with Frederick. As he approached he heard their tense exchange of words: Maribelle disclosed that this wasn’t an infrequent occurrence and she often found herself unable to sleep for worrying about the princess, and she was beginning to wonder if Lissa needed more help with her night terrors. 

Chrom pursed his lips and knelt down beside the bed, trying to catch his sister’s bleary gaze. “Lissa? Have you been waking up like this a lot?” he said gently. 

Without meeting his eyes, Lissa nodded her head weakly. Chrom could see in the dim lantern light that her face was swollen from crying; between her tear-stained cheeks and her limp hair free from its usual pigtails, she would be nearly unrecognizable to anyone else. But Maribelle, Chrom, and Frederick had been around her since she was an infant and would know her face even if they were blind. 

“What do you see in your nightmares that upsets you so much?” Chrom asked, placing a hand on Lissa’s shoulder.

“Milord, I’m not sure if that’s --”

“Emm.”

The cracked reply cut Maribelle’s well-meaning warning short, and all eyes turned to Lissa as she slowly extracted herself from Maribelle’s hold. “I see Emm,” she repeated solemnly. 

A beleaguered breath blew past Chrom’s lips, and he looked at the ground. “Could we have a minute?” he said, and wordlessly Frederick and Maribelle excused themselves. When they were gone, he stood and climbed onto the bed next to his sister and they sat together in silence for a few moments. 

“I have those dreams too,” Chrom said softly at length. 

“The ones where we’re in the castle courtyard, and the ledge she’s standing on crumbles like it’s made of wet sand? And then the dust rises until it’s all you see...and the sound of arrows flinging morphs into the sound of buzzing flies?”

“And then it’s just a static image of her body on display, yeah.” Chrom rubbed the back of his head and sighed. “Yeah, those ones.” 

“Why would somebody do this?” Lissa said, her voice wobbling as her tears began to fall freely down her face again. “Emm only ever tried to do the right thing...she wanted everyone to live together peacefully. How is anyone safe if she wasn’t?” 

Chrom looked sideways at her with his brows drawn. “Emm didn’t do anything to deserve that kind of suffering, and neither did we. Gangrel doesn’t play fair. That’s why we’re working so hard   
to win this war, so that no one else has to suffer because of him.” 

“Our father...he was like Gangrel, wasn’t he?” Lissa said quietly. The late Exalt before Emmeryn had died in battle before Lissa was old enough to remember him, but she had heard talk of his ruthless war and genocide against Plegia. 

“He was worse than Gangrel,” Chrom said through gritted teeth. “The people of Plegia have reason to hold Ylisse in contempt for his crimes. Emm always tried to right his wrongs, but the wounds are still fresh. That doesn’t mean she didn’t change things, though; so much healing was fostered under her guidance, and Gangrel has hurt both of our nations for putting a violent stop to it. And now we’re going to put a stop to him so that that healing can continue.” 

Lissa stared pensively at her hands, mulling over her brother’s words. A minute passed and she looked up at him through stormy eyes. “Are you going to become the Exalt now?” 

Sudden anxiety squeezed Chrom’s chest at the thought, and he forced himself to take a breath. “I don’t know. Maybe,” he said. The prospect of taking Emmeryn’s place while he and the entire halidom were still mourning her untimely death was dismaying to say the least, but leaving Ylisse without a leader in the wake of a recent war would be disastrous. Emmeryn had ascended the throne when she was only ten, but still at the age of nineteen Chrom felt like he was far too immature to wear a crown. If he had known that Emmeryn would be taken from them so suddenly perhaps he would have started preparing himself for assuming a position of power a long time ago, but instead he founded the Shepherds and grew up with far fewer responsibilities than would normally be expected of a prince. He wouldn’t say it to Lissa, but he feared the postwar future far more than he feared the coming battle.

“I miss her so much, Chrom,” Lissa said, her voice young and broken. Chrom looked at her with sorrow in his gaze; Chrom had lost a dear sister, but Lissa had been orphaned. He put an arm around her narrow shoulders and hugged her close to his chest. 

“I miss her too,” he said quietly as tears finally pricked at his eyes. “We are going to make things right by her, though, and soon neither of us will be having those nightmares anymore. Alright?”

Lissa sniffled and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “Mm-hmm. And we don’t have to do it alone...Frederick and Mari and Robin and everyone else all care about us and about peace and they are all so strong and brave, so I think we can be too.” 

Chrom’s face melted in a smile and he and patted her shoulder before letting her go. “That sounds like something she would’ve said.” 

Lissa laughed through her tears. “Think so?”

“Yeah, I really do. Hey, you should try and go back to sleep if you can. Why don’t you have Maribelle spend the night in here with you?” he suggested, standing up from the bed.

Lissa hummed. “I think I would like that,” she said. “A-and Chrom?”

“Hmm?” 

“Thanks. You made me feel a little better.” 

“What else is family for?” he said warmly. “Sleep well, sis.” Chrom stepped out and sent Maribelle back inside, assuring her that the princess was alright. He bid Frederick goodnight and made his way back to the makeshift bedroom he had set up for himself inside the fortress. He collapsed onto the low bed and stared blankly at the ceiling above as a million thoughts bounced around in his head. Would he have to become Exalt in Emmeryn’s place? What would that mean for his future? Who would rule Ylisse if not him, as he couldn’t in good conscience let his young sister take the crown while he evaded the burden? Was he capable enough to lead the halidom on his own? He was kept awake for hours by unanswerable questions as well as the ominous knowledge that immense and irreversible changes to everything he knew were looming just beyond the horizon. 

\--

Robin shuffled out of his tent shortly before sunrise after a night spent awake, pressing his gloved hands into his baggy eyes. Nobody else was outside when he emerged, though he could hear the deafening rumble of Nowi’s snoring from several tents away. He had arranged the day before to meet with Cordelia in the morning to instruct her on tome usage as she had recently taken interest in learning, and he knew that she was used to rising early. Though she had probably gotten to bed early as well, whereas Robin hadn’t laid his head down once all night. He wondered briefly if the situation with Lissa’s nightmares had been resolved, and made a mental note to mention it to Chrom later. 

When he arrived at the training barracks, Cordelia was already there, closely examining the shelf of tomes with a cup of tea in her hand. Instead of her usual pegasus knight armor, she was wearing a comfortable red dress with some leather bracers on her wrists. She looked up when she heard Robin come in, and greeted him with a glowing smile. “Good morning, Robin!” she said pleasantly. “Thanks again for meeting with me. I made you some coffee, since I know you prefer it over tea,” she gestured to a steaming mug on the table beside her. 

Robin accepted it gratefully, raising it to his lips as he made his way over to her. “My pleasure, friend. Has one of these tomes caught your fancy in particular?” 

Cordelia looked back at the shelf and held a finger to her chin. “Hmm, I know that the Thunder is more powerful but the Wind is more accurate….What’s this purple one here?” she asked, pulling out a Flux tome.

“That’s dark magic,” said Robin, and he gently removed the weapon from her hands and put it back. “And those are Tharja’s tomes. I would leave those alone unless you want to be hexed to next Sunday. We ought to start you with Wind, I think. That way you’re less likely to burn down the barracks or seriously hurt someone if you miss.” 

“Good thinking, Robin,” Cordelia agreed, pulling a new Wind tome off the shelf and handing it to him. 

Robin cracked open the grass-green tome and faced one of the practice dummies in the barracks. As Cordelia watched intently, his hand danced over the page, pulling glowing golden sigils from it into the air. “These hand movements are subtle and can be tough to master,” he said as he continued. “They have to be done in a certain order to summon the right spell. Once the sigils are all aligned, you need to check them to make sure they reflect the spell you’re trying to perform. This is what the Wind spell looks like.” Robin held still while Cordelia noted the simple geometric shapes suspended above the tome.

“When it’s time to release the spell, you should turn around like this to activate its power,” Robin said as he spun gracefully, causing brilliant circles to alight and surround him. “Then you just cast it like you’re throwing it, and try to aim it well.” With a practiced flick of his wrist, the sigils above the tome opened wide and a flurry of wind struck the abused dummy, rattling it from side to side. 

He handed it to Cordelia, stepping aside. “Now you try.”

As Robin watched, Cordelia flawlessly reproduced each of the movements she just observed, summoning a torrent and blasting the dummy with absolute accuracy. “How was that?” she said, her brows drawn as if she expected Robin to mercilessly criticize her performance.

Robin clapped his hands together. “That was perfect, Cordelia. You did it exactly right. Is there nothing you can’t do?”

Cordelia blushed and looked aside. “There are plenty of things,” she said quietly. 

Robin raised an eyebrow. “Nothing that I’ve ever seen.”

“Maybe I can fight and cook and help around the camp, but I’m far from perfect,” Cordelia said as she began summoning another spell to practice. “People don’t...like me.” 

“That’s not true and we both know it. Everyone loves you. We all think you’re great!”

“Everyone loves this person that they perceive as a perfect, beautiful genius,” she said, throwing another wind spell at the dummy. “But people rarely ever actually talk to me or ask me how I’m doing. I don’t have a lot of friends, and even in the Pegasus Knights my older sisters tended to exclude me.”

Robin said nothing, considering her point. Now that he thought about it, he rarely ever saw anyone but Sumia having a leisurely conversation with Cordelia. But she was so friendly and kind, how could it be that she was lonely? 

“And Prince Chrom won’t even look me in the eyes,” she continued with a heavy-sounding voice. “As one of the Knights it was my duty to protect the Exalt, and yet I’m standing here while she is dead at the hands of the enemy. I know that I’ve disappointed him beyond recovery.”

Robin put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s true that Chrom is grieving for his sister, but it would be preposterous to think that he blames you for her death, Cordelia. If anyone in this army is responsible for losing that battle, it’s the tactician.” 

Cordelia looked up at him in surprise. “Robin, no! Your strategy very nearly lead us to victory. How could you have possibly planned to counter that horrible woman Aversa summoning an army of Risen at the last moment?”

Robin smiled at her sadly. “Even if it wasn’t my job to prepare for every conceivable outcome, including Risen, I did still look Chrom in the eyes and tell him that sacrificing his sister was our best option. We may seem reconciled now, but I know that he will probably never truly forgive me for that.”

“Robin, the captain bears no resentment towards you. Anyone can see that he cares for you very much.”

Robin looked down at his hands. “...Don’t say things like that.” 

Cordelia looked at him in confusion. “Why not? It’s true.” 

Squeezing his eyes shut, he wondered if he should really say this, especially to Cordelia. But Cordelia was his friend, and he felt that at least someone had to know so that he didn’t go mad. With a deep sigh, he said “Because it makes me want things that I can’t have.”

Silence descended between them as Cordelia stared, comprehension slowly taking form in her mind. Finally, she set the tome on a table and pulled the small man into a hug. Moments passed as Robin wrapped his arms around his friend in turn, tears escaping from his tired eyes and onto her freckled shoulder. For a long time, he had been afraid that Cordelia would hate him if she ever found out about his feelings for Chrom, but the compassion and friendship of her true reaction filled him with warmth and comfort. She understood better than anyone how his heartache ate away at him, and he felt strangely reassured by the knowledge that she was struggling just the same as him. 

When they finally stepped away from each other, Robin saw some teardrops sparkling under Cordelia’s eyes as well. She smiled down at him and said, “It feels good not to be alone, huh?”

Robin wiped his face with the back of his glove and gave her a smile in return. “Who knew?” he said with a light laugh. “Alright, let’s get back to this Wind tome, shall we? I expect you to become an expert mage by the time we have to face the Mad King!”

\--

After weeks of anxious preparation, the eve of the fateful clash was upon the Shepherds. The camp was oddly calm; Robin didn't overhear any chatter regarding Gangrel or the imminent battle during dinner. Stahl and Lon’qu, well-known for being the two best cooks in the Shepherds, had been assigned to cooking duty so that the army could have a satisfying meal that night. Robin held his plate out eagerly as Stahl spooned him a hearty helping seasoned rice and Lon’qu topped it with some stir-fried vegetables in a spicy-sweet sauce. Robin found some room on his plate for a side of crispy roasted potatoes, Lon’qu’s beloved specialty, before taking a seat by Frederick and Lissa, among others. 

He had barely sat down when Chrom joined the table, sitting across from Robin and next to Lissa. He seemed exhausted, his somber demeanor in contrast with the general jovial air of the mess hall. His hair was more of a mess than it usually was and he didn't greet anyone when he sat at the table. Lissa, on the other hand, was back to her usual pep, her bouncy pigtails freshly brushed and her voice filled with giggles. 

Looking around at his dear friends, Robin issued a silent prayer that his meticulously thorough battle plans would be enough to protect them tomorrow. His catastrophic failure of the last battle he’d prepared strategies for had thrown his confidence out of its relative stability, haunting him with the reminder that he was painfully, tragically fallible. He couldn’t help but think about the fragility of all the lives that he hung in balance, and how any of the people he loved most in the world could easily be dead by this time tomorrow. He vowed to himself that he would sooner give his own life than see anyone else fall because of him; no one was going to die on his watch. He would make sure of that. He had to.

Robin glanced across the table at Chrom’s glazed-over eyes and wondered if he was struggling with the same sorts of thoughts. “Chrom?” he said, and the prince started at the sound of his name as though his mind was leagues away. “Are you okay?”

Chrom looked up at him and offered a halfhearted smile. “Yes, Robin, I’m fine. Just a little tired is all.”

“I should think so,” said Frederick from beside Robin. “Milord has not been sleeping or eating properly for the past few days.”

“Nothing escapes your notice, does it, Frederick?” Chrom said with a sardonic grin.

“Taking note of my liege’s health is part of my duties as a knight,” Frederick said simply. 

Lissa looked over and frowned at her brother. “Chrom, as a cleric and as your family, you should know that that’s cause for worry.” Beside her, Maribelle nodded in agreement.

Chrom waved his hand, starting to get flustered. “Truly, I’m fine. I’ll feel better once tomorrow’s battle is over and this bloody war is behind us. Besides, if there’s someone whose insomnia we should be concerned about, it’s Robin. You shouldn’t stay up working every night, you know.” 

Robin’s face warmed as all eyes turned to him. “I just need to be prepared,” he said. “How can I sleep while I’m thinking about strategies that are supposed to save all your lives?”

“You will be better able to think on your feet if you get a full night’s rest,” Frederick chided. “As any tactician knows, even the best-laid plans are often thwarted and we need you to be sharp in mind in the event that they are.” 

Chrom nodded. “Frederick’s right, Robin. Seeing you walk around every day with purple bags under your eyes makes us all worry.”

“Maybe you should have Robin sleep in your room, Chrom,” Lissa suggested innocently. “Ever since Maribelle started sharing my room at night I have been sleeping so much better!”

Both Chrom and Robin blushed and balked at the idea. While Chrom stammered awkwardly, Robin shook his head and said, “That’s not necessary. If it really means so much to you all, I will go to sleep right after dinner tonight.”

His friends seemed satisfied by this promise and returned their attention to the delicious dinner in front of them. Chrom, too, began taking bites of the food that he was previously just pushing around mindlessly with his fork. Robin watched him eat and talk and laugh with the people around him and couldn’t help the fond feeling in his heart. It made him unreasonably, stupidly gratified to see Chrom healthy and happy, and he wanted to do everything in his power to preserve that happiness. If winning the war tomorrow would achieve that, then Robin would work any miracle he had to to make it happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who commented such nice things on this fic! Y'all are the reason I keep writing <3
> 
> Sorry for the sudden angst-bomb, but I feel like writing a fic during this timeframe of the game warrants a little bit of Hard Feelings. Anyways, I did some planning for the rest of this fic and there are gonna end up being 6 chapters, and this is the last filler-y chapter before the last 2. I actually already wrote chapter 6 and parts of chapter 5, so I'll probably post those two at the same time and relatively soon (knock on wood). Thanks for all your interest and I hope you enjoy!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> time to tip the scales!

The Shepherds had begun their march just before sunrise to the desert sands northwest of the Plegian capitol, where Ylissean scouts had reported Gangrel’s approximate location and most likely site of the clash. Khan Flavia of Regna Ferox had met up with them the day before and their forces journeyed together as one army; Robin felt much more self-assured with the fearsome Feroxi warriors in his corner. As the ashen sun crested the barren horizon behind them, he looked to the prince beside him, whose pale grey gaze was set unwaveringly forward. 

“This is it, Robin,” Chrom said evenly.

“One way or another, this war ends today,” Robin said. “You have my word. I won’t fail you this time.”

Chrom looked down at him and his expression softened. “This isn’t what Emm would have wanted,” he sighed. “But I don’t have a choice anymore. I have to fight. This needs to end.” 

“It will,” Robin said, and reached a hand to Chrom’s shoulder. “I’m with you, come what may.” 

Chrom held his gaze for a moment, then nodded. “Thank you, Robin. Your presence gives me strength.” 

When they arrived at the fortresses at the near end of the battlefield, Khan Basilio was waiting there with more infantry as well as an enchanting young woman at his side, whom Robin recognized as the Shepherds’ rescuer following their escape from Plegia castle courtyard. Basilio clapped Chrom on the shoulder when they approached, a confident glint in his one eye, before re-introducing the woman as the dancer Olivia. Robin gratefully accepted her skills, eager to add any asset to his tactical inventory that could contribute to Ylisse’s victory. 

It wasn’t long before scouts, led by Frederick, returned with reports of an approaching army led by the Mad King himself. Chrom’s forces, huddled together in the stone fortresses as if for warmth, had been eerily silent as they waited for word, a charged air settled over each of them. It was so quiet that one could hear the anxious clinking of steel and armor, even the rapid breathing of the soldier next to them. Frederick exchanged a few tense words with Chrom and the Khans, who then turned and faced their army, outlined by the rising sun like in tapestries depicting saints and heroes. 

When Chrom spoke, his voice boomed through the air, displacing the ice-cold fear and nerves of the army. “We have received word that the Plegian army is in disarray: infighting, desertion, even signs of mutiny. Gangrel’s forces have all but collapsed,” he paused while confused and excited whispers spread through the fortress. “One name lies on their lips as they abandon the field of battle: Emmeryn. My sister’s sacrifice was not in vain, and she had always been right about Plegia. Calls for peace have been brought to the surface, and only one man stands in their way. Today, we bring him to justice so that the real work can begin! Today we fight for Plegia, Ylisse, Regna Ferox, and all people! Tomorrow, we do right by our Exalt and put an end to the violence and hatred! By all of your courage and strength, this ends now!” 

The army exploded with cheers and battle cries, raising their weapons and screaming to the heavens. Amidst the joyous clamor, a chant of Emmeryn’s name sprung forth, just like it had done on the other side of the battlefield.

\--

Robin was with him when Chrom faced his sister's killer. It had taken some tactical creativity to shuffle around units from their standard setup, but it was important for him to be by the prince's side during this battle. Regardless of whatever complicated feelings there were between them, at their core they knew they were bonded by something unbreakable. They had each other’s backs, both on and off the battlefield. 

As soon as Gangrel showed his wretched face, he led in with taunts toward Chrom to try and destabilize his confidence. But the prince would not be shaken.

“No more talk, Gangrel. Today you die, and peace can return to Ylisse and Plegia,” he called, Falchion drawn from its scabbard and gripped in his hand, glinting in the brilliant sun like the holy weapon it was. 

Gangrel scoffed. “Pah! Such a hypocrite! You despise me, little princeling, you want to cut me down! You don’t know the first thing about peace! No man does!”

“I know more than you ever will.” 

“More than me?” Gangrel barked a cruel laugh. “You are me! When life asks you a question, you answer with blood!”

Robin looked at Chrom, his eyes reminding him not to take the bait. Chrom threw him a sideways glance before responding, “Maybe you're right... I will never be my sister. I cannot forgive men like you—men who sow nothing but evil. All I have left are her words and her memory. If I’d had to face what you’ve wrought alone, I might have been driven to madness, or worse. But I'm not alone. My friends and brothers-in-arms stand behind me. All that’s left behind you are the few who could stand to tolerate your poison and your festering wounds. And now I will do what my sister could not.” Chrom raised his blade and pointed it toward the tyrant. 

It was a peculiar time for Robin to look at Chrom’s resolute stance, at his steel gaze, and for his heart to flutter with affection. While the prince spoke such convicted words, Robin thought about how many times he’d seen the same man break down and cry from grief, from stress, from the unrelenting weight of an uncertain future in the last few weeks. For Chrom to stand tall, so assured of who he was and what he fought for, filled Robin with feelings of overwhelming pride and warmth. 

After a brief and callous dismissal on Gangrel’s part, the fighting began and Robin assumed his strategist role, calling orders across the field and organizing his compatriots the way he’d spent so long planning. Gradually, he guided himself and Chrom towards the south end of the battlefield, where Gangrel was positioned guarded by a fortress with a powerful Levin sword in hand. Robin was very familiar with Chrom’s weakness against magic weapons, and knew that he would probably have to protect him from the Levin’s sword’s lightning attacks. He wasn’t worried about that - he would be prepared to give his life for Chrom if it was called for. Robin could feel his heartbeat quickening as their forces drew closer and closer to the core of Gangrel’s army. 

Finally, after hours of tired battle, it was over. Chrom struck Gangrel down with one last decisive blow that secured justice for Ylisse and Plegia in one strike. Robin scorched the Mad King himself a few times with his Arcfire tome, but Falchion did most of the work. Chrom knelt to hear the tyrant's dying words, and then slowly rose through the dust, and it seemed to Robin that his shoulders were set in an older way. 

The Shepherds were still off clashing across the battlefield, and in a moment they would stop the fighting and announce their victory. But for a heartbeat, Chrom only looked towards Robin at his side, both of them coated with blood and sand and heaving with exhaustion, and they wordlessly exchanged a weary smile. 

\--

In the following days, members of their company gradually made their way back home. For Robin, Chrom, and most of the Shepherds, that meant Ylisstol, but even many of those who hailed from Regna Ferox and Plegia followed them to Ylisse’s capitol city for celebrations. Although there were mountains to move to make headway into the path of recovery from decades of conflict, their nations could spare a short time just to breathe. 

Exactly one week after Gangrel’s downfall, a feast and celebration was held in the Shepherds’ original barracks. They were joined by family members and friends who could hardly contain their relief and gratitude at the return of their loved ones. Citizens from all across Ylisse came bearing food and drink, and performances by singers, dancers, and bards proceeded long into the night. Robin had not a single moment by himself, constantly surrounded by admirers and friends eager to shove wine in his face as a gesture of thanks and congratulations. He accepted only one drink, not keen on a repeat event of the night several weeks ago when he’d let a little too loose. Most of his comrades, on the other hand, grew drunker and drunker as the night went on. And why shouldn’t they? For once, they wouldn’t have to be up early for war meetings and training. 

“Enjoying your victory, Robin?”

The tactician turned around and audibly gasped at the shocking sight of Frederick without his armor. The knight looked like an ordinary steward, dressed in a pressed black suit with a thin bowtie around his neck. “Excuse me, but have we met, sir?” Robin said, unable to hold back the grin on his face.

To his further surprise, Frederick’s face bloomed in a smile in return. “I regret to say that we have.”

Robin tipped his head back and laughed heartily. “Come now Fredericson, surely my company isn’t that painful?” he wheezed. “And I must admit I am quite enjoying myself. But it is also your victory, and all of ours.”

Frederick nodded. “I will be grateful to put down my axe and go back to my knitting needles,” he said. “One grows weary of carrying a weapon.”

“I didn’t know you could knit!” Robin said with glee. “Your enigmatic character just keeps peeling back to reveal that you have much more in common with a gentle grandparent than with an intimidating warrior. I could not have misjudged you more severely when we first met.” 

“Nor I you,” Frederick said honestly. “I was wrongly mistrustful of you for too long, Robin, and for once I am indebted to Milord’s habitual dismissal of my warnings. His acceptance of you into our ranks has proved to be immeasurably meaningful.”

“How sentimental of you,” Robin teased, taking a sip of his wine. “Though in honesty, no one is more grateful for his actions that day than I. Never again will I criticize him for his insistence on helping the needy. Where would I, or any of us, be without it?” 

“Quite right,” Frederick agreed. He was about to say something else before Robin was mobbed by a deeply intoxicated pair of cavaliers: Stahl and Sully nearly tackled the tactician in a joyous hug, sloshing ale from their mugs all over Robin’s nice robes for special occasions. He shot Frederick an apologetic look as the two of them dragged him away towards the music to dance, albeit badly, with the other Shepherds. 

\--

Robin hadn’t recalled having so many options to choose from for one meal in his entire life. It seemed like there was everything he could think of, and many things he had never seen before, spread out on the tables of the barracks. From soft, fresh breadrolls and savory meats cured with wild honey to preserves of every type of fruit in Ylisse and a variety of aged cheeses made from goat, sheep, and cow’s milk, Robin barely knew where to start. He settled for rice-stuffed mushrooms, his reliable favorite, some of Panne’s irresistible carrot stew (which he suspected was made particularly with him in mind), and a generous slice of one of the dozen rhubarb pies lovingly prepared by Sumia. When he was satisfied with his plate, he sat down at the table on Chrom’s reserved right and dug in. 

After allowing people several minutes to enjoy their food, Chrom suddenly stood up from his seat and called for the attention of his fellow Shepherds. "I know you are all eager to bask in our festivities, but it is time to give credit where credit is due. Fighting a war is a collaborative effort, but I believe I speak all of our minds when I say we would not be here tonight if not for our tactician." Cheers of assent rose from the room like heat rose in Robin's face, and Chrom pulled the small man up by his elbow and grasped his hand. 

"Robin's strategic genius has not only led us to victory and put to death at last the Mad King's vicious reign, but thanks to his tireless dedication and tremendous compassion, not a single Shepherd in our ranks was lost along the way." He looked down fondly at Robin. "It's that kind of loyalty and friendship that makes us who we are. It's this kind of value for life and justice that distinguishes us and the good people of Plegia from tyrants like Gangrel. So, truly, from the bottom of all our hearts, we thank you." 

Robin was speechless at this praise, raising his free hand to his reddened face and smiling uncontrollably. After a moment of respectful silence, Lissa shouted "Hear, hear!" from a few seats down, followed by waves of cheers and applause for Robin. He felt barely able to contain his tears, but they rolled down his cheeks when Chrom suddenly raised Robin's hand in his own, exalting him as a hero. Then his friends rushed forward to embrace him, pat his back, even kiss his face, and in the midst of the ruckus he lost Chrom's hand. 

\--

That night, after half the Shepherds had finally gone home to their families and the other half has passed out from celebratory drinking, Chrom found Robin walking pensively by himself on the outskirts of the barracks, near the treeline, under the stars. 

"What can you possibly be thinking about, now that I know it's not battle tactics?" Chrom said, slowing his pace as he drew closer to Robin's side. 

Robin gave him a soft smile, turning toward him slightly as he walked. "I am not certain. All this time we've spent fighting, and I'd hardly given a thought to what I would do once it was all over. Truly, war is all I've ever known. This is the first time in my life — well, in my memory — that I will live in a time of peace." 

"Mmm" Chrom hummed, looking up at the sky as if he was soaking up the idea. "I'm sure you will find it to your liking."

"I'm sure I will," said Robin. "But I'm going to have to find a new line of work," he added with a light chuckle. 

Chrom laughed in return. "Perhaps you could find a career in law alongside Maribelle," he said. He was joking, but as the words left his mouth he realized how well Robin would probably excel in such a position. 

"We'll see," Robin said thoughtfully. "I must find something to do with myself if I'm not going to be advising the prince of the realm during every waking hour." 

Chrom mocked offense. "Come now! I can handle myself on occasion. But...I hope you are not saying that you’ll be leaving my side for good." 

Robin held his gaze for a moment before looking down. "No matter what future I can foresee for myself, I can’t imagine one where the welfare of Ylisse doesn’t occupy my acute concern. If you would still have me, I would be honored to be a part of your council." 

Chrom stopped in his tracks and grabbed Robin's arm reflexively. "Robin — of course you can! Your insight is invaluable, to say the least." 

Robin smiled modestly. "That's kind of you," he said. 

"I meant it, you know. Everything I said tonight," Chrom commented as they resumed their stroll. "This war would have been a catastrophe if not for you." 

"Alright, that's enough. There's no need to praise me when others aren't around," Robin said, waving his hand dismissively. 

"I'm serious!" said the prince. "You — really, you are the wind at my back and the sword at my side. I don't know what I would do without you. I am so grateful to Naga for our meeting. Such a thankful happenstance led to the end of this war, and put such a valuable person in my life. Sometimes I can't believe it." 

This time Robin stopped walking, and was looking up at Chrom. He seemed taken aback for a moment, and Chrom anxiously wondered if he had said too much, but then the other man laughed lightly. "Don't make me cry again," he said. 

Chrom looked at the stars reflected in Robin’s dark eyes for a moment and then sighed. “Robin...I owe you an apology. This wasn’t your war to fight.” 

This comment took Robin by surprise. He hoped he had never given Chrom reason to believe that he was the least bit reluctant to fight by his side. “Don’t apologize. It was my choice,” he said seriously.

“All I’ve been thinking about is stopping Gangrel and putting this bloody conflict to rest, at any cost. Even my own life wouldn’t have been too high a price to pay.”

“It would have been for…! For all of us,” Robin said, correcting himself before something incredibly foolish could escape his mouth. 

Chrom brushed through his protest like fog. “Now I’ve been thinking about where I have to go next...and I just keep feeling empty. It seems like such a ridiculous problem, to be almost melancholy that the war is over because now I don’t know what’s coming next.”

“Fear of the unknown is just as rational as fear of pain or death,” Robin said. “It’s not wrong of you to want stability.”

Chrom was quiet in thought for a minute, considering. It was true that everything he’d taken for granted growing up had been ripped from his hands quite suddenly in recent past, and stability was not something he’d been able to fall back on for months on end. But he wondered if that was what he truly needed. He looked at Robin next to him, at the satin ribbon tying back his hair, at his handsome features, at his consistent, steady gait as he walked by Chrom’s side, and felt a pang in his stomach. “Robin...I...you are a very special person and...I wonder if you think of me as more than just your leader?” he said without considering how his words might sound. 

“Of course I do,” said Robin without hesitation. “I consider you my dearest friend and you have my utmost trust and respect.” 

Some hopelessly optimistic part of Chrom was unsatisfied by this answer, but the larger part of him made him smile warmly and sling an arm around Robin’s shoulders, leaning on him as they walked. At this closeness he could smell him - even though he was dressed in fresh clothes, under the faint fragrance of soap Robin smelled perpetually of ink and coffee, and something unnamable that filled the prince with memories of a field of tall grass at daybreak. 

As he felt Robin lean his head against his shoulder, Chrom felt more whole than he had in a long time. Unrequited love or no, the knowledge that he would not have to part from Robin anytime in the foreseeable future brought him a deep sense of peace that even the end of a war couldn’t have done. 

\--

Diplomatic meetings were not Chrom’s favorite events, but discussing the aftermath of the Ylisse-Plegia war with the Halidom’s council could not be put off any longer. Both of the involved nations emerged from the war leaderless, and loss of funds and lives had been enormous on both sides. Reparations needed to be ordered without any further delay, and the prince had risen early in the morning to meet with the council, knowing that he would be there likely all day.

Entering the hall of parliament in the west wing of the palace, Chrom looked around and saw Robin seated at one of the desks, which were arranged in a semicircular formation. Knowing that he was there already put Chrom’s mind more at ease; he would have hated to be the only person present who had actually fought in the war. Chrom eyed the throne in the center reserved for the Exalt, but decided to sit in his usual chair at the front apex of the semicircle out of respect for his sister. A few minutes later he was joined by Lissa and with her arrival the meeting commenced. 

The first few hours were spent filling the council in on every detail of Ylisse’s campaign in Plegia, from their rescue of a thought-extinct manakete and their recruit of an enemy mage, to the involvement of Regna Ferox and the desertion of Gangrel’s army. In light of the knowledge that most Plegians suffered from Gangrel’s tyranny as much, if not more, than their neighbors, the council decided to take no more financial reparations than they needed from Plegia’s treasury. If peace between the two nations was to be fostered, then it had to start with concrete acts of reconciliation. 

Towards the end of the meeting, when the light from the windows had mostly dimmed, the discussion turned toward the vacant throne of Ylisse, as Chrom both feared and expected. It was made clear that the logical successor would be the heir apparent unless substantial objections to his fitness to rule were made and recognized. Chrom snuck a brief glance at Robin, who nodded once. Inhaling deeply, he stood.

“I will lead Ylisse in Exalt Emmeryn’s place,” he announced. “But I will foreswear her title, as she did not rightly pass it to me. If I am to rule this Halidom, I will do so as its Prince.” 

When no one protested, a wooden block was pounded on Councilman Calvin’s desk. “Very well, Prince Chrom of Ylisse. We will plan for your ascension as soon as possible. In the meantime, that leaves one more pressing matter to be discussed today.” 

“What is it?” Chrom asked as he sat back down. 

“Have you not yet selected a wife?” said Calvin, causing a few quiet murmurs to rise from the council. Chrom nearly blushed despite himself; he had not seen this question coming and was uncertain how to answer. 

“I...should I have?” he asked awkwardly. 

“Exalt Emmeryn was allowed to assume rule while unmarried because she was only ten years old when she ascended the throne, but normally it is customary for the ruler of Ylisse to be married by the time they are crowned. The leader of the Halidom is expected to set an example of a devoted marriage,” Calvin explained somewhat impatiently.

Chrom fidgeted in his seat. How could it be that this wasn’t brought to his attention before this moment? Was it truly so necessary, if Emmeryn ruled until she was twenty-five years old and never married? He didn’t want a wife, especially one he barely knew and had no desire for. How could he marry a stranger while he had such strong feelings for another man? He helplessly sought out Robin’s gaze again, but the tactician looked just as stunned as he felt, sitting motionless in his seat and staring wide-eyed at the floor in front of him.

“I have not yet considered marriage,” Chrom said at length, almost too quietly to be heard. 

“If Milord does not select his own partner in the coming weeks then the council will select a suitable maiden from the nobility of Ylisstol,” Calvin stated coldly. 

Chrom’s fingers curled into fists on top of his armrests, but he said nothing and nodded in understanding. He could feel Lissa looking at him with concern, but he couldn’t meet her eyes. She already knew that he didn’t want to succeed Emmeryn yet; she could probably imagine how he felt being rushed into marriage on top of it. He didn’t need pity from his little sister. 

After a few brief formalities concluding the meeting, the council session finally came to an end. Chrom felt the strong urge to get up and speak with Robin immediately, even if he didn’t know what he would say to him. He didn’t even know if he sought his guidance, perhaps he only wanted the comfort of his company after such a long and foreboding series of decisions. But when he stood from his seat and scanned the hall for him, the man was nowhere to be seen. Chrom looked around outside the door and down the hallway, and double-checked to see if he was speaking with any of the other council members, but he had simply vanished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE PENULTIMATE CHAPTER!!! I used a loooot of in-game quotes for this chapter because it overlapped with canon stuff a lot more than the others :') Hope it's not too much of a drag to read! 
> 
> Also, thank you so much for 200 kudos!! Like that's seriously mind-blowing and i'm incredibly flattered. <3 
> 
> Get ready for some real gay content comin' atcha in the last installment!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which 12,000+ words of sexual tension gets resolved!
> 
> **Note that the rating of this fic has gone up to explicit!! Also note that in this fic, Robin is transgender so if you're gonna be weird about that please go be weird somewhere else!**

As Robin hurriedly navigated through the cold stone halls, his shoulders lurched forth with unbearable shame at his own emotions. He knew in his heart that this was going to happen. He knew it from the very beginning, from the moment he reached for Chrom’s hand that day. If he knew nothing else, he knew that this was coming. 

Chrom was the crown prince of Ylisse. Robin was a Plegian nobody, with a background as sinister as it was hazy. This was given knowledge. So why was he acting like he’d been sucker-punched with a shocking and heartrending revelation? He should not have kept telling himself that harboring feelings for Chrom, of all people, was harmless. Why did he let himself steal glances at him when he wasn’t looking? Why did he let himself fall asleep to thoughts of his touch? He had been such an idiotic, selfish fool! Why did he let himself entertain, even in fantasy, the idea that his love, the love of a homeless amnesiac, had any inkling of hope?

He was a strategist, for Naga’s sake. And this was a grievous tactical error: willingly leading oneself into a self-destructive pitfall that could be seen from miles away. The man he loved was going to marry a stranger, and Robin and all his useless affections would be buried for good. He had no place in Chrom’s heart. He knew this. He had always known this, and yet he could not stop his tears from flowing. 

So trapped was Robin in his mind that he had taken a wrong turn somewhere in the palace that he knew better than his own home and found himself in one of the courtyards. Rain was pouring heavily down from the slate-grey sky, and within seconds of his entry, Robin was drenched. He didn’t even bother trying to push his wet bangs out of his eyes, unable to blink the water away. Through blurred vision, he looked around at the meticulously-trimmed topiaries lining the modest square, and considered turning back into the castle to reroute his exit, but instead sank his shoulders and with a resigned sigh headed toward the gazebo in the center of the courtyard for shelter from the rain. At least this way, it would be a little longer before anyone came across him. If he’d headed back toward the Northroad he would have had to deal with Chrom or Frederick or Lissa or somebody inevitably. 

Robin drew his knees up to his chest and leaned back against the damp stone, pulling his hood over his head. He had intended to retreat into solitude to logically assess his tumultuous feelings and formulate a reasonable strategy for how he would carry on while the man he was unfortunately and helplessly enamored with was married to another. But as fate would have it, the incessant deluge of the rain and built-up stress from the past few days drew his thoughts away from reason and toward a sudden sleep. 

\---

 

If he hadn’t been so wound up with worry, Chrom would have been almost embarrassed by the length of time he spent looking for Robin after he unceremoniously disappeared right after the council hearing. After more than an hour of thorough and somewhat frantic searching, he was now standing in a tucked-away courtyard where he had finally found his faithful tactician taking shelter from the rain. He had passed through this area five times earlier and not seen him, but the sixth time he caught sight of a familiar hue of violet cloth between the pillars of the gazebo and simultaneously felt hours of tension and anxiety evaporate into the evening. 

As he approached he saw Robin curled up on the cold, hard stone as comfortably as if it were a feather bed. His clothes were still a little wet from the rain, but his dark hair was pressed up awkwardly against the column behind him and had started to dry, resulting in an impressive cowlick. Chrom smiled lightly as he approached, kneeling before him and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Robin, wake up,” he said in a low voice, jostling him slightly. “Don’t you know that there are better places to take a nap?” 

Robin let out sleepy groan and gradually squinted his eyes open. Once they focused on Chrom, they widened in comprehension and Robin scrambled to sit up. “C-Chrom,” he stuttered, nervously drawing away from the prince’s touch. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep here.”

“I figured,” Chrom said with a soft laugh as Robin rubbed at his eyes with the backs of his hands. “I’m just glad I finally found you. Why did you leave so suddenly? I was worried about you.” 

Robin didn’t meet his eyes, instead focusing on fiddling with the ends of his sleeves. “Ugh, right...Councilman Calvin wanted to talk to me afterward about the battle with Gangrel. How angry is the council?” 

“Oh, don’t worry about those curmudgeons. I managed to appease them,” Chrom said with a casual shrug. “I want to know how you are.” 

Covering his eyes with his hands, Robin didn’t answer for a moment. “I’m fine,” he said. “I just felt a bit sick, so I excused myself. I meant to come back, but I must have fallen asleep out here. I’ll have to explain to the council later.” 

“Robin, do you really think after all we’ve been through together that I can’t tell when you’re covering something up?” Chrom said, raising an eyebrow. “I’m your friend. You can tell me what happened.”

Gods damn him. Despite how Robin prided himself on his skill with strategic deception, it was still so hard to lie to Chrom. “I was...upset,” he admitted with some effort.

“About?”

“...I would rather not say, my lord.” 

“Robin.”

“Yes?” 

“Look at me.”

Robin squeezed his eyes shut, exhaled, and then brought his gaze to Chrom’s. He wondered if the prince knew how piercing his eyes were, how looking into their grey depths conveyed so much raw emotion that it almost felt like an intrusion of something deeply private, something intimate. It took considerable resolution to hold that gaze. 

“Look...” Chrom began, and then placed a warm hand on Robin’s forearm. “I know the council has their attention annoyingly fixed on my prospective marital options, but I’m not about to wed some village maiden.”

Blush immediately burst into his cheeks. “That’s not--”

“Don't try to lie to me,” Chrom said. “I know you.” 

Every alarm in Robin’s head went off at once. “I don’t know what you’re referring to,” he said, immediately hating how pathetic it sounded as it came out of his mouth.

Chrom pursed his lips for a moment and then sighed. “Alright, listen. I wanted to wait a little longer, but I realize that I need to tell you something that you might already know. Will you still hear me?” 

All of a sudden Robin felt the very strong urge to stand up and bolt away with the speed of a dozen horses, but he nodded despite the trembling of his hands. 

A moment passed filled with the sound of raindrops drumming the roof of the gazebo as Chrom tried to gather his thoughts. Finally, he nodded to himself, deciding that he couldn’t say it any other way: “Robin, I love you.”

Robin felt his heart stop and he parted his lips to speak, but Chrom cut him off and continued, “So much chaos has thrashed my world in the last few months that at times I thought I would lose myself in the wreckage, but it’s like Naga put you into my life at such a time that you could anchor me and...and save me. I mean it when I say that I would not be here if it wasn’t for you and your kindness and friendship and brilliance,” his voice was starting to crack, but he carried on. “And maybe it’s strange or selfish of me to fall in love with someone like this, and I know that you already said that you don't feel the same way, and I know that this might seem rushed...but every time I try to picture myself in the future, every time I try to think of someone I could see by my side for the rest of my life, who I could trust and care for come what may...I can’t picture any other face but yours. I love you, Robin. I love you hopelessly, and I couldn’t live with myself if I took the hand of some faceless maiden before I even tried to ask if you would marry me instead.” 

He looked away briefly to slip off the ring that he always wore on his little finger; it was emblazoned with the Ylissean house crest, the same symbol that graced Chrom’s shoulder from birth. “Will you?” he asked as he held it to Robin, voice shaking. 

Robin’s mouth was hanging open and his mind was a blank space. For several full minutes he was wholly unable to process the words that had been spoken, and just stared between the ring in Chrom’s hand and his expression of guarded hope. 

Chrom...loved him? Was that truly what he just heard? The man he’d longed for since the beginning of his memory returned the feelings he thought he’d have to take to his grave. Not only that, but he wanted Robin to be with him for the rest of his life. He could not believe his ears.

But he was getting ahead of himself. The issue was not so simple. Finally he said, “But we….The council said...you need a _wife_ , Chrom.” 

Chrom shook his head. “I don’t care about that. Emmeryn always followed her heart, and she led Ylisse into the greatest time of peace the Halidom has ever known. If she can do that without marrying at all, then I know I could follow in her footsteps with the man I love by my side,” his gaze faltered and he looked at Robin sheepishly. “If that is, indeed...where he wants to be. 

Robin leaned down and rested his forehead on Chrom’s, reaching a hand to the prince’s cheek and smoothing a royal blue curl against his rain-soaked skin. He wanted so desperately to be by his side forever, and as he held Chrom’s face between his palms, his mind sought frantically for any logical drawbacks that should prevent him from doing so. But when that search came up empty, his answer came to his mind in its place, growing in volume until it rang like a song too joyous to be contained. 

“Yes, it is, and it always has been,” he breathed, and with a swift motion he brought Chrom’s face to his own and kissed him. Months’ worth of locked-up affection burst forth like water from a broken dam, and Chrom met his enthusiasm in kind. Before they could get carried away Chrom broke their kiss, looking at Robin with an exhilarated grin. As he slipped the ring onto Robin’s finger a laugh of pure elation bubbled up from his chest. Without missing a beat Robin joined in and they held each other close, kneeling together on the hard, damp ground in the pouring rain with a ring and a promise held between them.

\--

Chrom offered to walk Robin home since it was past sundown by the time they'd finished talking over the brand new nature of their relationship, but Robin declined. Though he had always been the type of person to leave gatherings early to go bask in comfortable solitude, for once he didn't want to go home. His hands trembled too strongly with excitement and he needed someone to hold them. 

Chrom led him back into the palace, up to the North wing where his chambers were. It was one of the few parts of the castle that Robin had never seen; Chrom was usually in his office or in the reception hall whenever he stopped by. Robin was strangely thrilled about the prospect of seeing Chrom’s bedroom - despite having no memory or experience of growing up in his own room, he knew that someone’s personal space reflected who they were and he was interested to look around and see what he could learn. It only occurred to him as Chrom was turning the door handle that this would also be Robin’s bedroom in the near future. 

The ornately-carved, ivory-coated door gave way to a space that was much larger than Robin would have ever guessed. He knew these were royal chambers, but the ceiling seemed nearly as high as a chapel and the bed in the center looked like it was just as wide as it was long, and coated in sheets that shimmered gold like shiny minerals lying in a clear, sunlit stream. Mahogany bedposts carved in the abstract likeness of the divine dragon framed it rather majestically, and a grandiose oil painting of Ylisstol in spring hung over the headboard. As Robin took a step forward he looked down and saw a navy blue rug as soft as down feathers giving easily under his boot. He looked up with wide eyes at Chrom, who was smiling sheepishly. “What do you think?” he said. 

“Wow,” Robin said simply, returning the smile. Chrom kissed his cheek and pulled him into the room by the hand. 

“Is it alright with you if I go take a quick bath?” Chrom asked while Robin marveled at the wallpaper. “That rain really soaked me to the bone and it's been a few days anyway.” 

Robin turned to him and blinked. “By all means,” he said.

“Alright, I’ll be back soon,” he said, leaning in for a brief kiss. “Feel free to look all you want, I haven't got anything to hide.”

Robin chuckled. “I’ll be here.” The prince gave him a lingering smile before turning away toward the bathroom. 

Once the door was shut, Robin strolled over to the bed and hesitantly sat on the edge, as if to test it. He sank into it readily and a real sigh of relief blew past his lips as he fell backward onto the duvet. It was easily the most comfortable surface he had ever had the pleasure of laying on...and he reminded himself that soon he would get to lay on it every night. It still didn’t feel real that he was here in Chrom’s bedchambers, as his betrothed no less. A few hours ago it was a dream so far-fetched that Robin was embarrassed to even imagine it. Even the swift kiss they had just shared still felt like a distant fantasy. He lifted his left hand above his face and looked at the sparkling ring there and marveled for a moment at reality. He sighed dreamily and then realized with a start that his coat was still damp from the rain and was probably getting the silk duvet cover wet. He leapt up like a fox and aggressively discarded his coat before inspecting the indent he'd made in the sheets, exhaling his held breath only when he observed no offense. 

While the sound of mild splashing drifted from the bathroom door, Robin walked over to Chrom’s closet to inspect his wardrobe with the intention to find something dry that he could change into. Hanging in the wardrobe was an array of outfits that Robin had never seen on Chrom before, and he had a hard time imagining the prince in such ornate garments. Chrom had always preferred to be simplistic in his dress, or as simplistic as Frederick had allowed him to be. His aversion to adornments was one of the many little things that Robin knew and loved about him. After rifling through many a silken raiment, he finally unearthed a loose cream-colored nightshirt that would serve his purposes just fine. Chrom was bigger than him by a considerable margin, but sleep-clothes were one area where Robin was willing to compromise. He cast off his damp clothes and pulled the nightshirt over his head, relishing in the instant comfort of soft, dry clothing on his body. 

He had just laid back on the bed when the bathroom door opened again, spilling out puffs and tendrils of steam. Chrom stepped out with a towel wrapped around his waist and using another one to rub his wet hair. He looked at Robin reclining on his bed, wearing his clothes, and said, “I see you've gotten comfortable.” 

Robin sat up and smirked. “I wasted no time in uncovering all the dark secrets of your wardrobe.” 

“Oh mercy, now you know that I don't wear most of the clothes that Frederick gives me,” Chrom teased as he strode back into the bedroom. He walked over to his closet, but stood there motionless for a while with his back to Robin. 

“Chrom?” Robin ventured after a minute. “Is everything alright?” 

Without turning around, Chrom said, “Remember the day you walked in on me in the bath and threw a soap dish at my head?” 

Robin turned bright crimson at the recollection. “Yes…I’m still sorry about that.”

“Back then I was really flustered because I was ashamed that you saw me so...exposed, but...but I-I think I'm ready now, if you are,” Chrom stammered, his voice uncharacteristically high with anticipation. 

Robin’s heart lodged itself in his throat and he didn't answer for a few moments. How many times had he fantasized about seeing Chrom naked? How many times could his wildest dreams overlap with reality in just one day? Decidedly, he stood up from the bed and said, “Come here, Chrom. I want to see you.”

Chrom’s shoulders relaxed and he turned around, slowly unwrapping and discarding the towel around his waist. And just like that, there he was, all of him illuminated by starlight from the window. Robin’s breath hitched and he approached him, reaching out almost absentmindedly to touch his collarbone, fingers trailing across the pale, shiny scars on his chest from battles past, and down his sides. Chrom shivered, and Robin could feel muscles tensing beneath his fingertips. He felt transfixed, and only looked up when he felt hands gingerly grasping the hem of his nightshirt, and saw a question in Chrom’s eyes. 

Robin smiled gently and took half a step backward to pull the nightshirt back off over his head, revealing himself in kind. Chrom had also seen Robin naked before, albeit on accident, so Robin’s breasts and lack of penis didn't surprise him. Instead, his face showed adoration and a bit of shyness as his rough hands explored the warm spans of Robin's back and stomach, coming to rest on his hips. The prince buried his face in the crook of Robin’s neck and they pressed their bodies close in an embrace. 

“You are...so incredibly...attractive,” Chrom breathed between kisses to Robin’s throat. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Robin said wryly, and Chrom straightened up to hold his face between his hands, rolling his eyes before leaning in to kiss him deeply. Robin sighed noisily into his mouth, and Chrom moved his hands up and down Robin’s sides and back. Their tongues slipped into each other’s mouths and before long Robin felt something getting a little harder against his thigh. 

“Robin...” Chrom hummed between kisses. The vulnerable tremor of his voice as he said the name easily turned Robin’s stomach upside-down. 

“Yes?” Robin said almost coyly, trying not to betray how every nerve in his body danced with excitement. 

Chrom pulled away enough to look into his eyes with a hungry stare. “I want you,” he breathed. 

Robin’s heart beat like a rabbit’s at these words, and he kissed Chrom’s lips once more before breaking away from his hold and leading him by the hand to the bed. He laid down and Chrom climbed over him, his hands pressed down on either side of Robin’s head. 

A few moments passed where Chrom did nothing but gaze down at him. Robin laughed nervously. “What?” he said. 

“Nothing,” Chrom said placidly. “I love you, that's all.” 

Robin smiled and slowly trailed his hand down Chrom’s front. “Is that so?” he whispered.

A shudder ran through the prince as he felt Robin’s steady touch descending past his navel, and he lowered his forehead onto Robin’s shoulder. “Yes, I do,” he mumbled into warm skin. 

Robin stopped his hand just before his fingers could graze Chrom’s length. “Do you want me?” he teased.

“Yes,” came the immediate answer.

“Are you sure?”

“Robin, please.” 

A heavy pause seemed to stretch forever, and then suddenly with a swift motion Robin flipped their positions and Chrom found himself lying on his back underneath him. “Oh gods,” he said as he saw a certain glint in Robin’s eye. “What on earth have I gotten myself into?”

Robin chuckled and placed a kiss on his jaw. “If you wanted straightforward action you shouldn’t have taken a tactician to bed,” he said, his breath on Chrom’s throat sending shivers across his skin. 

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” Chrom said, trying to sound annoyed but failing when his tone tripped as Robin’s mouth latched onto the base of his throat and started to suck. A few seconds later he released the delicate skin and sat back to admire his handiwork. He stroked the dark purple mark with his thumb and smirked. 

“It looks good on you,” he said.

“Who needs an engagement ring when my bruised neck would much more clearly convey my relationship status?” Chrom said. 

“That’s the spirit.” 

Chrom pulled Robin’s head down and kissed him hard, twining his fingers in his smooth, dark hair. He broke away from the kiss to gasp when he felt Robin’s hand enclose around his shaft and move up and down once. Robin laid down at his side and pressed his lips to Chrom’s shoulder, on his Brand, as he stroked him. “How’s that feel?” he said in a low voice close to his ear. 

With his eyes squeezed shut, Chrom tried to use words but could only muster a breathy moan, eliciting a soft chuckle from Robin. “Already hard,” Robin observed with a note of self-congratulation. 

Chrom opened one eye and peeked sideways at Robin before subtly sliding his thigh between Robin’s legs. The rhythm of Robin’s hand faltered and he looked up into Chrom’s eyes with surprise. 

“Is this okay?” Chrom asked gently, his hand gliding down Robin’s hip. “I mean, can I -- can I touch you?” 

Robin smiled and hummed his consent, guiding Chrom’s hand between his thighs. “Gods, that feels good,” he said under his breath as the prince’s fingers slid slowly back and forth across his sensitive clit. After a moment of euphoric distraction, Robin turned his attention back to Chrom’s dick and for a while they laid together this way, pleasuring each other with intermittent kisses and moans. 

Abruptly Robin pulled away from Chrom’s touch and removed his own, sitting up on his knees and tucking his hair behind his ears. Chrom looked up at him inquisitively, propping himself up on his elbows. “Do you want to stop?” he asked.

Robin leaned forward, smoothing his hands up Chrom’s thighs and over his hips and pressing his lips to the center of his chest. “No,” he whispered at length before flicking Chrom’s nipple with his tongue. “I just have something new in mind for you, if you’re ready for it.” 

Robin’s sultry tone sent Chrom’s heartbeat into overdrive, and the way that he was kissing a path down his torso gave Chrom a pretty good idea of what he had planned. He reached down with one hand and cupped the back of Robin’s head, twisting his hair in his fingers and breathing heavily as Robin’s mouth drew closer and closer to the juncture of his legs. Robin wound his arms under Chrom’s knees and grasped his hips before placing a light kiss to the tip of his length. Encouraged by the shudder he elicited, he drew his tongue achingly slowly from the base of the shaft to the tip. He was met by an excited groan from Chrom, and then did it over and over, slightly faster each time until he took the whole length into his mouth and began to suck. 

Chrom was getting rather noisy, nearly pulling Robin’s hair and moaning his name breathlessly. It was so warm and wet inside Robin’s mouth, and his tongue was working hard. He kept at it dutifully until Chrom’s pleasure built up so high that he was on the verge of tears, and just as he was about to break Robin stopped, coming up to nuzzle Chrom’s neck and kiss his cheek. 

“Robin…” Chrom growled. 

“Don’t be upset,” Robin said calmly. “I just wanted to tell you something.”

“Tell me quick.”

Stealing his lips in a quick but deep kiss, Robin whispered “I love you too, Chrom,” and in a flash returned his mouth to Chrom’s straining dick for the few remaining seconds Chrom needed to come. With a scream, the prince spasmed with ecstasy and Robin sat up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“That was cruel,” Chrom said after taking a few heaving breaths, snaking an arm around Robin’s waist as the man laid back down at his side. 

“Was it so unbearable?” Robin said with a grin. 

Chrom rolled over with Robin in his arms and kissed his neck. “No, it was wonderful,” he said. “But I feel like there’s something I’m forgetting.”

Robin bit his lip and smiled. “Is there really?”

“Hmm...what could it be…?” Chrom wondered, one of his hands reaching down to grab Robin’s ass. 

“I don’t know, but you’d better figure it out soon.” 

“Hmm…” Chrom slipped his hand gently between Robin’s thighs, and his hum turned into a chuckle at Robin’s low whine in response. “Ah yes, that was it. I believe I have a favor to return.”

Their chests glided smoothly against each other as Chrom slid downward, his fingers and lips covering Robin’s body like he couldn’t get enough of his soft skin. Robin eagerly parted his legs while Chrom took his sweet time appreciating his stomach and torso, even going far enough to press his lips to his shivering thighs. Finally, Robin sighed impatiently, arching his hips upward, and Chrom laughed before bringing his kisses to the one place he’d been pointedly neglecting.

Robin clutched at Chrom’s hair and groaned, rocking his hips in time with the rhythm of his motions. Chrom dragged his tongue in long, slow arcs at first, but after Robin’s enthusiastic response he began to move faster, taking his clit between his lips. The feeling electrified Robin’s whole body and he could hardly control the arching of his spine.

“Chrom...you can...go inside me...with your fingers, if you want,” he whispered between breaths, and his needy, pleading tone was unimaginably gratifying. Without missing a beat, two of Chrom’s fingers slid easily into Robin’s ready opening while his tongue remained teasing gentle circles around his clit. 

“Aah….aah…” Robin’s voice above him was dry and desperate and it spurred Chrom to speed up his motions, pushing into him with steadily harder force. Being where he was, Chrom couldn’t help but note the contrast between Robin’s usual collected, sangfroid demeanor and his current state; his cool academic persona was falling apart at the seams in the face of unadulterated pleasure and Chrom was loving it.

“Ah...okay...stop,” Robin said after a few minutes, sitting up to take Chrom’s hand and twine his fingers with his. 

Chrom looked at him with confusion. “But you haven’t--”

“I don’t want to,” Robin interrupted. “Not tonight. I’m happy now. Don’t worry, Chrom, it felt amazing,” he added, reading the look on the prince’s face. 

“I trust you,” Chrom conceded as he came back up to the pillows, drawing the other man close and kissing his forehead. They laid together, warm and sleepy, for a little while. Then a sudden laugh erupted from Chrom, rousing Robin from near-sleep. 

“What’s so funny?” Robin mumbled into Chrom’s chest.

“Oh, I’m just happy,” Chrom said, his giggles dying down. “I just remembered that I proposed to the person I love today.”

Robin couldn’t help but smile, raising his head to look at Chrom and lazily caress his cheek. “And I said yes, didn’t I?” he said slightly incredulously. 

Chrom’s face broke in a wide grin and he pressed a jubilant kiss to Robin’s lips. “Let’s get some rest, love. We’ll have lots to plan in the coming days.” 

“Don’t we always?” Robin yawned as the two of them shimmied under the covers. He nestled into Chrom’s arms and soon fell into a sleep deeper than any previous night he could recall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, finally posting this! I wrote this chapter like 2 weeks ago and since then it's been beta'd and revised to hell and I feel pretty good about where it's at now! HUGE thank you to Mir, Gale, Panie, and Monica for reading and making notes for me!!! <3
> 
> A few notes about the sex scene depicted here: I intentionally wanted to subvert some of the most common smutty fanfic tropes I've seen! First of all: always gotta get consent. Second of all: trans people exist and can be sexual in healthy ways and that deserves to be portrayed in creative writing. And finally, sex doesn't always have to culminate in two orgasms! Sometimes orgasms can be painful or unwanted and ya partner gotta respect that. 
> 
> Writing this fic has been a wild ride (this is my very first multi-chapter fic ever!) and seeing all y'all's positive feedback has warmed my heart and extended my lifespan. Thank you soooo so much for your interest and I hope you enjoyed the last chapter! Until next time! <3

**Author's Note:**

> My last fic was super serious so I thought I'd lighten it up a bit :P Robin's behavior is based on how I act when I've had that much wine ahaha


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